


sunbird (don't shine too bright)

by cowboysapnap



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Olympics, Angst, Comfort?, Gen, Hurt TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Hurt/Comfort, Maybe - Freeform, Olympics AU, Sports, Sports Angst, Sports Injury, TommyInnit-centric (Video Blogging RPF), but you think that they think that you're dumb, hmm i dunno, poggers, that awkward moment when older people think you're cool
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-27
Updated: 2020-12-27
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:21:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28351587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cowboysapnap/pseuds/cowboysapnap
Summary: The world was the sky and Tommy had wings and it was beautiful.How awful it would be if he fell.
Relationships: Grayson | Purpled & Toby Smith | Tubbo, Grayson | Purpled & Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit, Grayson | Purpled & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), No Romantic Relationship(s), Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit
Comments: 19
Kudos: 134





	sunbird (don't shine too bright)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lillian_nator](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lillian_nator/gifts).



  
  


_ Inhale. _

He straightened his back, his muscles fraught with nerves. This was the moment. The air around him stalled. His wrist twinged. The entire world, all of its trees and stone and air and protons alike waited- still for what should’ve been a moment, but felt like a century. He could feel his lashes touching his cheeks as he blinked. He could feel every place where the fabric of his shirt touched his back. This was the moment. 

_ Exhale. _

His chest spread and shoulder blades squished together. The nape of his neck tingled, the air was vibrating, the silence ringing with anticipation. His arms stretched with the familiar movements of drawing his bow, his legs shifted into a practiced stance. Blankness enveloped his mind. The bowstring stretched, his breath held. He let go. This was the moment.

_ The arrow cut true. _

\-- 

Tommy was four. This was important, because two months ago his mother promised him that if he was good for the next two months after his birthday she would take him to the archery range, and put him in lessons. Tommy was four and he had been obsessed with Katniss Everdeen after he watched the Hunger Games on accident because his father was busy trying to clean the kitchen oven from the absolute disaster the brownies had been. His mother had been very cross to say the least. 

So Tommy was four, and he was in the car, and his mother had just looked up the nearest archery range that even had lessons for four year old’s and put him in his car seat and drove. What his mother didn’t know was that very quickly this “obsession” would extend past the natural state of hyperfixation in adhd children, and would become a  _ passion. _ If his mother knew that, maybe she wouldn’t have put four year old Tommy in the car, but four year old Tommy could also be very annoying, so maybe it was for the best. 

Tommy was four, and his entire life was about to change, and he had  _ no idea.  _

\--

Tommy was thirteen. Tommy had just gotten home from school where he almost fell asleep in maths class and the football fanatics all pushed him around good-naturedly because who the fuck does archery in English suburbia. 

Tommy was thirteen, and Tommy  _ was _ the person you did archery in English suburbia. That was interesting, albeit a little strange for people to really comprehend, but it was his. Contrary to popular belief, Tommy wasn’t jealous, or bullied, or even teased to a great extent. It was acknowledged, seen as a little weird and then largely ignored. Maybe that's because Tommy didn’t even make a big deal about it to his school friends, maybe that’s because Tommy was  _ too much of a big man for people to tease, I mean- look at him.  _

His school friends strongly suspect it to be the former, but Tommy was betting on the latter. 

Tommy was thirteen, and damn good at archery, and doing okay in school, and he didn’t think he could ask for anything more really. Life was good. No, life was  _ great. _

\--

Tommy was fourteen. The attitude he had last year had rapidly morphed into something very, very different.    
  


Tommy was fourteen, and he was going to be the  _ best.  _ Tommy had never been largely competitive before, had always appreciated his sport for what it was to him, and outlet, a passion. Now, that had changed. Tommy still appreciated his sport for what it was to him, but now it was a  _ life force.  _ Tommy lived, breathed, and existed for archery. Now, this created a series of obstacles for him to effectively live, breathe and exist for his sport. The first, school. Mother would not take him to lessons or the range if he had anything below a D in school, so school became the second priority. The second, other people. The other kids at school had very quickly shed the “if you don’t tell me i won’t care” attitude they had last year, and subsequently began being more nosey, and subsequently deemed archery something worthy of ridicule. So, third on the list of priorities, is to be  _ as subtle as humanly possible _ . 

Now, Tommy is a six foot and continuously growing, loud, obnoxious, and incapable of volume control when excited. A little like a great dane, or a husky. So being subtle- it's not exactly  _ natural  _ per se. But, Tommy was a fourteen year old with adhd and a special interest that demanded so fuck it. He’d find a way. 

\--

Tommy was sixteen, and he had done it. 

Tommy had survived the ridicule, the schooling, the intense practices, the absolutely soul crushing competitions. And he had made it. 

How did he know he had made it? Well, it came with being told that he  _ would be competing on the English national archery team-  _ and this is the best part, really-  _ that  _ **_would be going to the Olympics._ **   
  


Tommy was sixteen years old. He was going to the Olympics, and he was the damn coolest mother-fucker anyone had ever seen on the history of the planet. That was debatable in everyone else’s minds, but Tommy had always been very good at using narcissism to combat debilitating insecurity. Fake it till ya make it baby. The youngest Olympian that year was going to be him, and he was going to win gold if it was the very last thing he would ever do. Tommy was sixteen years old, and he was going to be the best archer in human history. 

\--

Tommy was sixteen years and two months and thirteen days old. He had been practicing at the range, and something went  _ wrong.  _

He was alone, he was pulling the bow string, and his wrist was suddenly on fire. He dropped ( _ oh no that was expensive, mom would kill him _ ) the recurve bow on the floor and staggered to his knees, clutching his wrist to his chest. He didn’t get anymore practice that night. 

Tommy was sixteen years and two months and fifteen days when after two days of frantic google searches and research on symptoms he had a good estimate on what exactly was wrong with his wrist. Tendonitis of the wrist, is what he thought it was. Caused by inflammation of the tendons in the wrists, caused by micro-tears in the tendons, caused by repeated injury to the tendons of the wrists. Symptoms may be felt as a burning sensation, a sharp stabbing pain, or a constant dull ache. Pain may also radiate up to the elbow on the affected side. 

Tommy was sixteen years and two months and fifteen days when he realized his career might be  _ over.  _

\--

Tommy was sixteen years and seven months and two days when he was in that stadium.    
  


He honestly couldn’t tell if this was going to be a blur or whether it would be a hyper-realistic memory for him. This was his first Olympics, and hopefully, not his last. Tommy was was sixteen years and seven months and two days when he felt like his life had reached a check-point, a sign that it had all been going in the right direction, that it wasn’t worthless, that it everything that had ever happened in his life had led him to this exact moment, and nothing could stop him now. 

\--

Tommy was sixteen years and seven months and two days and 13 hours old when he felt unstoppable. He was sixteen years and seven months and two days old, and he was sixteen years and two months and thirteen days old, and he was sixteen, and fourteen, and thirteen, and four, and each of these versions of him were finally,  _ finally _ complete. He couldn’t tell if it was the medal around his neck, or if it was how much taller he felt on the podium, or the sound of the iconic  _ God Save the Queen  _ echoing through his ears, but he had done it. He had done it and it felt good. 

Tommy was sixteen years and seven months and two days and 13 hours old and that feeling wouldn’t last for long. 

**Author's Note:**

> KJAHDKFJSNSLKFGND I DID IT BOYS. I HAVE SENT IN MY COMPLETELY REWRITTEN VERSION OF THE OLYMPICS AU AKJSFBKSDJKJBRGKF IM SO READY I REALLY LIKE THIS VERSION. sorry the rest of the boys aren't in here, but they will be in the next installment :)


End file.
